Inherit
by Let's Play
Summary: Nan Burdeh, billionaire and creator of Section 8, has left her secret squad in the power of her heir. This heir is a human girl, important for Section 8 to get their hands on. The only problem is that someone else wants her too...
1. Nan Burdeh's Will

_Disclaimer: _Everything, excluding the plot and any self-made, belongs to Eoin Colfer. Not for profit.

_Author's Note: _This is basically a random story idea that came into my head a few days ago while reading over TLC. This is my first shot at an Artemis Fowl fanfic and, unfortunately, I'm not so great as writer as Eoin Colfer. Feel free to correct me if I mess up any plot details mentioned later on. Anyways, thanks and please **review**

* * *

"_That is why, five hundred years ago, Council Chairman Nan Burdeh set up Section Eight to monitor demon activity. Luckily, Burdeh was a billionaire, and when she died, she left her entire fortune to Section Eight. Hence the rather impressive setup._"

-Commander Vinyaya, _Artemis Fowl: The Lost Colony_

* * *

Holly Short leaned against the grimy bar and shot a glance over her shoulder at the big name bank across the street. The concentration of civilians walking along the busy pathways blocked her view of the doors to the bank. Fortunately, for this Section 8 Captain, eyes and ears were everywhere.

"No, Diggums, I will _not_ sell off my hair so that you can make wigs out of them. What? _What? _I don't care if you're offering me forty percent of the profits," Foaly's voice sounded over the ear piece, "I don't exactly need the pocket change. In case you haven't noticed, I work for Section 8 and they pay pretty well."

Holly thought she overheard Mulch mumble something along the lines of: "Wouldn't make much money anyway, hair like your's."

"Yeah, and that's not the pot calling the kettle back," Foaly snapped back.

Before the playful fighting could break out into an all out argument, Holly interrupted, cupping her hand over her mouth so no one would think she was talking to herself, "Foaly, I'd appreciate it if you and Mulch didn't argue over hair and wigs. It sort of kills the whole I'm-an-undercover-agent-about-to-do-something-impressive-mood that I'm in."

"One four, Captain Short. We'll be silent as the grave, quiet as a mouse-"

"Foaly!"

"Right, quiet. I get it. Sheesh, someone's been rather cranky lately," Foaly sniffed.

She didn't reply. For a second, Holly's thoughts flashed to what had gotten her so worked up in recent days. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she took another glance at the bank across the street. Just then what looked to be a pixie, dressed in stark black with hair so white it couldn't have been natural, stopped near the bank and gazed up at its 6-story structure. The pixie was holding a brief case in his hand and he looked around him before he entered the bank.

"Foaly," Holly said, not bothering to conceal her moving mouth, "I think we've got company."

"Company? That seems highly unlikely," Foaly said and she could practically hear his frown, "It's a private party and the only invitation went out to Section 8."

"Well, the pixie I saw looked pretty suspicious. He had a smug look on his face, he was wearing black and-and-he was carrying a brief case!" Holly sputtered, having a difficult time explaining why she was so perturbed.

"Oh no! Not a brief case!" Foaly gasped, his voice gushing with sarcasm, "Because, you know, Section 8 has handled the return of the entire demon population, threatening to destroy Mud Man kind and reveal the existence of the People. But god forbid a brief case!"

Holly was just pondering over a good retort when she heard gun shots sound off from the bank. Suddenly, civilians were screaming and running around the street in a frenzy.

"Were those gun shots I just heard?" Foaly asked.

"Uh huh," Holly breathed, before she started running towards the bank.

"I'll never hear the end of this, will I?" Foaly went on.

"Nuh uh," Holly smiled, fighting through the crowds of frightened people. It was not an easy task, much like pushing upstream when the current was going downstream. Finally, she reached the black marble doorways of the bank, and turned on her suit. Invisible, she slipped into the building.

"Holly, we've got someone waiting in the wings to zip you guys outta there. Just get in, zap that pixie, make sure we get our hands on what we came for, and get out. It's smooth going. Is that clear?" Foaly inquired, something telling him that when it came to Holly Short, things were never smooth.

"Crystal," Holly responded, watching her pixie friend terrorize the bank tellers and an unfortunate few who hadn't managed to escape the bank. The Captain was just raising her neutrino to shoot when-

"I'd wait before you shoot, Holly," Foaly broke in and a camera that had only just gone under the control of Section 8 turned in her direction. Even though she was wearing her suit, invisible to any camera in the world, Foaly had still found her. Holly would have to ask him about that later.

Holly paused, "Why the hell not?"

"Our friend is trickier than we think. Under that pretty black coat, he's strapped with bombs set to go off at impact with any sort of fast moving or flammable substance. Almost all your weapons fall under both categories," Foaly explained.

Holly swore under her breath and shoved her gun back into its holster. It looked like she'd have to disarm the criminal manually. As she inched closer, she heard him talking.

"I want all these people out of my sight," he ordered, pointing his gun at the hysterical civilians, all crying for dear life, especially one dark-haired girl in a flashy silver suit, "No witnesses, understand?"

"Y-yes sir," one of the bank tellers and then he nodded to another one of his colleagues who began leading the civilians into the inner folds of the bank.

"They're taking them into a special holding cell the bank has for crisises," Foaly said, clicking on his computer and pulling up a blueprint of the bank, "A top security room with no cameras. No one's allowed in there unless there's an all out emergency. It gives easy access to the rest of the bank's safes."

"At least the innocent people are out of my hair and my conscience," Holly muttered, nearly up behind the rampant pixie. Really, the job was rather easy. Knock-out the crazy fool with a quick hit to the head, unstrap his explosives, save the bank. She found herself rather disappointed in the amateur gig. When she'd last signed a five year contract with Section 8, she'd imagined cool adventures and even cooler gadgets.

Just as she'd thought, a swift elbow to the back of the pixie's head had him down. He fell easily and she turned off her suit and knelt down beside him, removing his bombs.

As she worked, she spoke, "Captain Holly Short, government agent. Please, stay calm. The worst is over."

"Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. This is not good," Foaly sounded up and Holly froze.

"Don't tell me, the worst is not over?" she sighed, the last of the bombs off the pixie.

"Far from. I've lost contact with the Section 8 agents in Nan Burdeh's safe room. I think a heard a struggle before my signal went dead. There's no cameras in any of the big name cellars and Nan Burdeh was big name. As far as I can see, you and our driver are the only Section 8's within radius. And, LEP is on its way," Foaly summarized, "I think the pixie was a decoy. The opponent is smarter than we first thought."

"D'Arvit!" Holly swore under her breath, then, to the bank tellers, "Excuse me? You know what I said about staying calm? Yeah? Well, that's going to be key to the situation right now. Listen, you, come here and tie this guy up. Don't worry, he should be out for another hour or so. Don't touch the explosives either unless you want to sign your own death warrant. The LEP is on their way. Now, which one of you is going to show me the way to Nan Burdeh's safe?"

Nobody moved. Holly groaned.

"We're sorry, Miss, but no one is allowed inside Nan Burdeh's safe unless they have key. As far as we know, Mrs. Burdeh took that with her to the grave," a teller replied.

Holly rolled her eyes, "Listen, folks, one of you is going to take me to Nan Burdeh's safe or I'm afraid I'm going to have to use one of these on you."

She revealed the weapons tucked in the folds of her uniform for effect, then said, "Please, don't make me repeat myself. I only have so much patience."

The tellers moved into action as if someone had just turned them on. Two went to tie up the pixie, three others were answering calls, and yet another began leading Holly down to Nan Burdeh's cellar. They walked swiftly through the maze-like bank. They went up and down so many elevators and made so many turns that by the time they had reached the cell door, Holly had no idea how to get back.

The bank teller had his hand scanned and his eyes scanned as he said, disapproval evident, "I used to be Nan Burdeh's special consultant. I'm one of three people this door opens for."

The cell door opened and inside were six Section 8 agents lying all over the floor, looking ragged and dazed. The cell itself had been ravaged, with safes blasted open and money, jewels, and special files littering the floor.

"The safes!" the teller cried, rushing in and Holly strided in, gingerly. She scanned the room for any remaining opponents. None. She stepped to the nearest agent and checked for a pulse. She went to all six, checking one by one and each time, being relieved when she realized they were still alive.

"I can't believe this. Do you know how many years it took to organize these papers?" the teller cried, shoveling up handfuls of files and disks, "Now, you and your band of miscreants come along and-"

Holly had him mesmerized before he could whine anymore.

"Holly...?" one of the agents groaned and the Captain went to her, hearing Vinyaya's voice.

"Commander," Holly said, cradeling the older woman's head in her lap, "Commander, what happened?"

"I don't know...they all just came at once," Vinyaya said, trying to get herself together, "And they took it. The second half of Burdeh's will. I was only just looking it over before they took it."

"Did you catch a name?" Holly asked, helping the Commander to sit up.

Vinyaya rubbed her forehead, "Something like Natalie or Natasha. It was an odd name. Almost like...someone from the surface."

For a moment, Holly and Vinyaya stared at each other. What would happen if Nan Burdeh had left the whole of her special Section 8 core to a Mud Man?

"Anyways, I suppose we'll have to get Foaly to do a proper scan for anyone with that sort of name," Vinyaya shook her head, "I just don't understand what happened. How did those people get in here?"

"Did you manage to ID anyone?" Holly implored, noticing that the other agents were awakening too.

"No, all new faces. I do remember one of them, vividly, though. A young girl. Dark hair. Wore this silver suit get-up."

Holly felt her heart stop. That civilian girl. Or, at least, Holly had thought she was a simple civilian. Was it possible that that whole band of innocent bystanders were really the enemy all along? She recalled Foaly's words about how the holding cell was highly permeable to all the other cells in the bank.

"D'Arvit!" Holly snapped, then without explaination, stood, speaking into her ear piece, "Foaly, make sure those civilians in the bank aren't released. They need to be questioned."

"You're a few minutes too late, Captain," Foaly answered, "All of the captives were just released by the LEP."

Holly moaned, "Tell me they got names, addresses, anything?"

"Sure, they did. But they didn't verify anything," Foaly said.

"Basically, you're telling me that everything they said might as well be a lie, then?" Holly demanded, pacing around the holding cell.

"Bingo," Foaly replied, "However, I do have camera images. Let me just replay them."

Holly tapped her foot, impatiently, then heard a distinctive swear, "What is it?"

"They got to the cameras before we did. Everything's set to play just fine one time around when it's all live and then if you replay it, it burns out," Foaly groaned, venting his frustration by tossing his head set at a sleeping Mulch.

Holly sighed and turned to Vinyaya who asked, "Well?"

"We've lost them."

* * *

_ Let's Play_


	2. The Russian National Library

_Disclaimer: _Everything, excluding the plot and any self-made, belongs to Eoin Colfer. Not for profit.

_Author's Note: _A big thanks to BrightestStarInTheNightSky for reviewing . I'm sorry if my updates are sometimes far and few inbetween. I try to make time for this, really I do. Speaking of the relationships in this fanfic, I'm not quite sure what I want to make it. It can be anything really, at this point. Anyways, I hope all my readers enjoy this.

* * *

_8 Years Earlier_

Natashka Williamson eloquently walked across the top of the tight-rope thin wall as if she were merely treading solid ground. She came to a pause and settled herself into a seated position, her feet dangling a good five feet in the air. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a cookie only just awarded to her by Sister Mary. She chewed on the slightly stale chocolate chip rather thoughtfully, happy to catch a moment alone.

However, it didn't last for long.

The other children began piling out of the orphanage, ready to partake in their favourite activities for their ten minute recess. Some of the children jumped rope, some played hopskotch, and others started up a game of basketball. Alex Ferris and his gang of miscreants didn't find any of these things interesting. Their most beloved hobby was to pick on the other children, each day singling out a scrubby little loner to bully.

"Hey Williamson!"

Apparently, it was Natashka's turn again.

She pretended not to notice Alex and his friends, hoping that they'd simply go away.

"What are you, a chicken Williamson?" Alex shouted, coming up to the base of the wall she was resting on.

_'Boy, are they persistent,' _Natashka thought, dourly.

"Well, are you?" another little boy yelled up at her.

"No," she replied, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible.

"Then why don't you come down here?" Alex taunted, rounding her like a hawk.

'_Because I'm not a fool who puts on his shirt inside out,' _she thought and nearly smiled. Out loud, she was silent.

"It's because you don't want us to see your ears, isn't it?" Alex continued, "Your weird pointy alien ears."

At that, Natashka felt herself getting flustered. She reached a ginger hand to her ears; these things had made her the subject of much teasing over the years. When she was very young, she'd thought it had made her special. Now, she often tried to cover them up with her dark hair.

"I bet your father was an alien or something," Alex went on as the other boys grinned, "A gooey mushy green alien. You're probably one too and at night you change back into your slimy self."

"If we're judging people by their fathers, well, then, looking at you, I'd say your father was an ass!" Natashka retorted before she had time to think about what she was saying.

The other boys raised their eyebrows in obvious shock, Alex looked most stupefied of all.

"You...swore!" one of the boys yelped and the others began crying out warnings like, "We're telling!" and "Sister Mary's gonna hear about this!"

"I didn't swear!" Natashka said, indignantly, "I meant ass like a donkey!"

They weren't listening. They were too busy running to fetch Sister Mary.

Natashka stood on the wall and screeched, "_I meant ass like donkey!_"

The children gazed, surprised, at the girl who never spoke a loud word. Natashka felt her face go red with shame and anger. It wasn't even her fault. Alex was the one who'd started it and now she'd be the one punished just because she'd sworn.

Evidently, anger made you ungraceful because Natashka suddenly realized she had lost her footing on the stone wall. She screamed, feeling herself falling backwards onto the hard cement sidewalk that bordered the orphanage. The other children gasped and Sister Mary was nearly ready to faint after she saw one of her charges disappear behind the wall. All the bad publicity...

Natashka shut her eyes tight, prepping herself about how she'd die fast and not feel anything. However, the cold cement never came. Instead, she found herself craddled in the arms of a middle-aged man, who looked just as dumb about the situation as she was.

"Am I in heaven?" she asked, weakly.

"No? Am I?" the man inquired, a slight accent to his English.

Natashka looked at the sky past the man's head and shook her head. The man gently let her down on the sidewalk and held onto her arm, demanding, "Are you alright, child?"

Natashka nodded, gulping in deep breaths of air. She was okay!

Just then, her new livelihood was interrupted by the click-clack of ten nuns rounding a corner. They rushed through the gate of the cemetery and a blind man could've seen the relief on their faces when they realized Natashka was alive and breathing. Ignoring her rescuer, they shrouded Natashka, checking her for any signs of injury. She shook them off and explained, "This guy, he caught me."

"Sir, you don't know how much grief and trouble you've saved us from!" Sister Mary breathed, "I don't know what would've happened if you weren't here to catch little Natashka..."

He arched a bushy eyebrow, "Natashka? You are Russian?"

She shrugged, "My father was from Moscow or, at least, that's what they tell me."

"I too am Russian," the man replied, brushing some of Natashka's hair off her forehead as if to get a better look at her face. Then, he turned to Sister Mary, "What is this place you are running?"

"The Catholic Orphanage Brooklyn Division," she answered, humbly.

"An orphanage, eh?" he regarded the structure behind the wall, "Hmm."

* * *

_8 Years Later_

"We're here," Butler said, just as the Bentley skidded to a halt in front of the Russian National Library in St. Petersburg.

Artemis Fowl looked up from his laptop, shutting it in the process, "Just on time."

The two stepped out of car and entered through the main doors of the library that Catherine the Great, herself, had established. It was an impressive building, extremely Neoclassical in style. Butler look off his dark sunglasses and did a quick 360 of the place. It checked out pretty safe, although it was hard to tell what could be lurking behind all those shelves of books.

He came up to a map, showing the general floor plans of the library, pointing out where all 20 000 000 books were. Butler studied it, thoughtfully, as if he didn't already have it memorized beforehand. He eyed the Fontanka Embankment, the area he'd studied most intensely due to the fact that that was where they were likely to meet trouble. Butler reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper written in Gnommish that spelled out _Natashka Williamson Wundt Federov_, a name it had apparently taken Foaly quite a while to find.

"Butler?" his young master called, already halfway down the main hall, "Are you coming or not?"

"In 1948," Artemis explained, "The campus of the Catherine Institute, the Fontanka Embankment, was assigned to the library. It was designed and built between 1804 and 1807 by Giacomo Quarenghi, the most prolific pratitioner of Palladian architecture in Imperial Russia."

"Really, now?" Butler remarked, a slight sarcasm to his tone as he felt his brain fall asleep.

Artemis detected it right away and smiled, "Quarenghi was also one of the most frequently painted architects because of his somewhat...droll appearance. A latter age man, large in build, bald or nearly. Ring a bell?"

"Touché," Butler grinned.

The pair came upon the Fontanka Embankment and Butler placed a firm hand on Artemis's shoulder before they entered, "Just so some things are clarified before we go in. This is strictly a we came, we saw sort of situation, right? We shoot a few pictures of the girl for Holly and Foaly, then we leave, right?"

Seeing the look on Artemis's face, Butler squeezed his shoulder tighter, "_Right?_"

"Right," Artemis nodded, reluctuantly.

"You promised me no more trouble, Artemis. I'll hold you to that," Butler sighed, releasing his charge. He had a feeling that however pure Master Fowl's intentions where, something rotten would come out of this little escapade.

"Of course you can, Butler," Artemis rolled his shoulders back and entered the Fontanka Embankment, "This won't be a lengthy job. I fly into Nice tomorrow to see Minerva, remember?"

The embankment was in itself a rather large building and it would've taken a anybody quite a lot of searching to find one random little girl. However, Foaly had already hacked access into Rolf Wundt Federov's files. He was quite sure the girl would be at a tutoring session in the innermost study area to the right. Artemis simply had to walk to the very end of the shelves and keep his eye open for desks facing an onslaught of large windows.

He made a sharp turn around a corner and saw a small group: three children, slumped over a table writing or reading as their tutor hovered between them. His eyes fell on the pretty tutor for a brief moment, most likely his own age. She had her hair loose and untamed, falling over her shoulders and he watched the sunlight from outside bounce off of it for a second before turning his attention back to the children. One of them was the head of Section 8, although they didn't know it yet. He singled out the boy, Artemis knew for a fact that Natashka was a girl.

Pretending to search for a book on a shelf, he studied the two girls, as Butler spun a globe a certain distance away. One of the little girls was red-haired and seemed to be having a lot of trouble understanding the concept of fractions. The other one was solemn and wrote in perfect printing. She seemed haughty and bored and the tutor didn't spend much time on her.

Artemis took pictures of both of the girls, blinking his eyes to flash the camera in his contact lense.

"Do you need something?" the tutor straightened and faced him, her Russian flawless.

"No, I found what I needed," he responded in Russian too, pulling out a book as he spoke.

"The Russian translation of _Wuthering Heights_?" the girl implored, the corners of her mouth twitching, "You're a brooding romantic like Brontë then?"

"Nothing wrong with that, I hope?" Artemis smiled at his choice of book too.

"Not at all. There are not enough of those in the male species," she said, "Unless you come to a library and find Petrach."

Before he could reply, Artemis caught Butler's eye. His bodyguard was clearing pointing to his clock to show that time was a-ticking and flirting with the tutor was no way to find Natashka. Artemis had only opened his mouth to turn the conversation around to the tutor's students when a sudden blast ripped through the library. The windows towering over the small study group shattered and two small grenade-like objects dropped in through them. Before Artemis or Butler could find out what they were, they began spilling out a light smoke. Artemis recognized the Gurunath Gas, a generally harmless substance that blinded anyone who's eyes came into contact with it for up to two minutes.

The tutor hazarded her way to the children and Artemis followed. He managed to snatch the collar of the little boy before his eyes fell through. He felt himself being picked up by an unknown force, most likely Butler, and carried away somewhere.

"Butler?" he demanded, hearing screams in the backdrop.

"Yes?"

He waited patiently for his eye sight to return and when it did, he asked his bodyguard to let him down on the floor. Two other children tumbled down with him. The boy and the blonde girl.

"Where's the third one?" he said, brushing off his suit.

Butler glanced over his shoulder at the disaster zone of the study area. A shelf had fallen over and books were all over the floor, along with glass and wood and stone. He hurried over to it, the last of the gas had gone, and peaked under the fallen shelf. Luckily, no small cadaver awaited him.

"Hello?" Butler called out in Russian, "Anybody here?"

A small girl crawled out from under a pile of books as Artemis went to a broken window. He heard crowds crowding around the bombed area and Butler came up behind him. He saw nothing unusual until he caught a glimpse of a black BMW, tires screeching as it pulled away from the library.

"Did you catch that license plate?" Artemis asked, his eyes suddenly fierce.

"Yes," Butler nodded, locking it up into his memory.

"Well, come on, let's get back to the hotel room. I think I've got a plan to get Natashka back," he explained, making his way through the crowds that the library officials were trying to control.

"Natashka? But...all the children..."

"Yes, Natashka," Artemis said, a frown line between his eyes, "The tutor."

* * *

_Let's Play_


	3. The Astoria Hotel

_Disclaimer: _Everything, excluding the plot and any self-made, belongs to Eoin Colfer. Not for profit.

_Author's Note: _Thanks to all my reviewers. Just so you know, I'm really just making up the plot of this story as I go along. I'm not the type of author that usually likes to plan ahead if you know what I mean. Anyways, I hope you come along for the ride too. Thanks!

* * *

Just as their Bentley began speeding back to the hotel, Artemis opened up his laptop to find a web camera request awaiting him from Section 8. He paused the mouse over the word 'accept' for a split second before clicking it. Instantly an HD quality feed broke over, showing Foaly in a glossy techy sort of room with Holly and a sharp-faced woman he'd come to know as Commander Vinyaya standing over his shoulder.

"Did you get the pictures we need?" Foaly demanded right away.

Artemis frowned, "That's no way to say hello. How are you, for example, would be more appropriate."

"If you want to know, not so great," Holly grumbled, arms crossed.

Foaly grinned, "You caught her on a bad day. Someone's recently been restricted to office duty for the next few weeks for mesmerizing another fairy you see."

"That bank teller had it coming," Holly retorted.

"Answer the question, Fowl. Did you get a viable picture or not?" Vinyaya barked, still nervous about involving a Mud Man in this project.

"Yes," Artemis replied, not bothering to mention Natashka's abduction.

However, even through a computer screen, Holly picked up on something. She'd been doing it ever since the pair's time travel venture. Sometimes, it seemed as if they'd exchanged more than eyes.

"What are you not telling us?" Holly asked, coming closer to the screen.

Artemis caught Butler's eye for a brief moment, "I'm not sure how you'll take to this, but Natashka's been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped?" all three fairies repeated in unison.

"Kidnapped, yes," Artemis said, slowly, as if speaking to children, "But not lost entirely."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Foaly flicked his tail indignantly, "Do you know who has her?"

"Well...no," Artemis admitted, reluctuantly.

"D'Arvit!" Vinyaya swore, "I knew we should never have involved anymore humans in this. Just the girl alone was one Mud Man too many."

Artemis tapped his laptop impatiently, waiting for the others to regroup before he reiterated, "I told you it's not a lost cause. I have a way to get to our kidnappers."

Foaly snorted, "And that would be..?"

Butler interrupted the conversation, "Artemis, we've arrived at the hotel."

Artemis nodded and smiled at the fairies, "I'd love to elaborate, but I have to go."

Just as he closed the viewing screen, he distinctly heard Holly warn, "Artemis, don't you dare close that screen..."

He waited as the video conversation began auto-deleting off his MAC. Foaly had set up the video feed so that each conversation would erase itself without a trace. He wanted nothing remotely fairy-related in the uber-genius's files. However, what the good centaur didn't know was that Artemis had done some setting up of his own. While the conversations appeared to be deleting, they were actually being transferred and saved into his inner hard drive.

Shutting his laptop, he slipped it into a brief case, handed the brief case to Butler, and stepped out of the car. He stepped into the calm cool lobby of St. Petersburg's Astoria Hotel, which had catered to the likes of both George Bush Senior and Junior, Henry Kissinger, Rudolph Giuliani, Jacques Chirac, Princes Charles, Tony Blair, and even Pavorotti. Artemis couldn't grasp why, after all, he'd seen better.

"Butler," Artemis said, and feeling the reassuring black Prada shoes clacking behind him, he began briefing, "Firstly, I need you to call the St.Petersburg Police Department, INTERPOL, whatever you find. Report a stolen Black BMW, cite the license. Secondly, call all car rental agencies in the city. Ask them how many Black BMWs they have and how many are available. We can calculate from there how many were given out. Lastly, I need you to dig up Rolf Wundt Federov's phone number, home or cell. If this stretches on too long, someone has to tell him about his daughter."

"To the hotel room, then?" Butler gestured towards the nearest elevators.

Artemis shrugged, "If you don't mind, I'd prefer the hotel restaurant."

* * *

As the maître'd led them to their private booth, Butler's eyes scanned the crowd like a vulture trying to decide which piece of the dead body to eat first. At first glance, he saw the usual. Businessmen and aristocratic families with a few politicians and celebrities shuffled into the mix. However, as they placed a table that was irkingly close to the restaurant bathroom, Butler noticed a group of about six men, two of them rather short in build. There were two reasons they caught his attention: the cuffs of their suits were covered in soot as if from a recent rocky blast and the fact that one of them looked extremely high and mighty twirling a BMW key ring around his finger.

"Did you catch that?" Butler whispered, leaning into Artemis's shoulder.

He grinned, "What do you think?"

The soon as the two were seated, they ordered their respective drinks and appeared to be making small talk. In reality, their discussion could've have been more serious.

"What do you think, Butler, are they our men or only an innocent group who decided to go on a scavenging in a fireplace?" Artemis implored, his face so lacking humour that if Butler didn't know any better, he'd think Artemis really was serious.

"Judging by the rocky residue on their shoes, I'd say we've got ourselves a pair of kidnappers," Butler answered, putting the glass of scotch to his lips but not really drinking, "Where do you think they put the girl? The car or the hotel room?"

"Hotel room," Artemis said, "Unless they paid off the valet. However, the question is, how did they drag her body up there without raising questions? At least thirty sufficient ideas comes to mind, but it still would've been nice to see which one they used."

Butler grinned, "I'll nab their keys either way. Who knows what could be in that car? Now excuse me if I don't go to the bathroom."

"Be back before I break into the hotel's computer system and find the hotel room," Artemis replied, opening up his laptop again.

* * *

Rookie Deville was picking out the dirt from under his fingernails with his Swiss Army knife. He was nothing if not clean and maybe just a little bit scruffy. He heard a shuffle and glanced up at the large black ski bag in front of him. He knew there was someone, probably dozed off on some drug, in there, but he didn't know who it was. The short white-haired guy had made a whole big point about not opening the bag. Rookie didn't care, he wasn't that curious anyways.

Until now.

He was sort of bored, you see. The other guys who were supposed to be guarding the thing with him had gone down the hall for ice and drinks. The rest were down in the hotel restaurant, packing down lunch.

The bag moved again, as if the person inside it was slowing regaining consciousness. Rookie wondered if it was a boy or a girl. If it was a guy, okay. If it was a girl, was she pretty at all?

Rookie snapped his Swiss Army knife shut and dropped it into a pocket. He crouched over to the ski bag and stood over it, watching it shuffle again. He kneeled down beside it and, taking a cautionary glance over his shoulder, began to pull the zipper down until it was at the waist. The first thing he saw was a crown of dark hair, followed by a pale forehead. It was a girl who had a perfectly symmetrical face so you could say she was pretty in a plain sort of way. However, if one feature had moved even a millimeter this way or that, she would've simply been average. The girl's eyelashes fluttered, as if she were drifting in and out of a hazy dream.

Rookie raised a hand to smooth away a lock of hair from her cheekbone when a voice behind him said, "Touch her and I'll break every bone in your body."

He froze and before he could think of a course of action, Butler had him knocked out cold. Moving Rookie's body aside with a gentle nab of the foot, Butler unzipped the bag all the way to Natashka's feet.

She moaned and murmured, "Where am I?"

Butler cradled her out of the ski bag and her head lolled against his chest. Behind them, Artemis searched the room for any clue as to who these men were, what they were up to and how they knew about the Fairy people.

Natashka managed to gain control of her eyelids and kept them from drooping. However, simply following Artemis's harried movements around the hotel room were still enough to make her feel dizzy. Holding her head away from Butler's chest, she asked, "What's going on here?"

To Artemis and Butler's surprise, she had reverted to speaking in American English. Butler scoured his mind for any indication that she had ever been to America. As far as Foaly's report on her was concerned, she was purely Russian. A ballerina, pianist, and St.Petersburg native along with her very rich and very Russian father. Finding nothing, he said, "There's no time. We need you to drink this."

He pulled out a small vial from the folds of his suit, "It will counteract whatever they've given you."

She took it from him, "Great. Another strange man forcing some kind of drug down my throat. Just what I needed today."

Butler watched her drink it anyway. Artemis, it seemed, was checking the last of the drawers.

"Nothing," he frowned, "They must've stored any important folders in the other hotel rooms or the hotel bank."

Natashka took notice of the Fowl boy for the first time, "You're the one from the library."

Artemis turned to Butler, "Bright this one, isn't she? I'm sure Vinyaya will be elated to have her."

Natashka noticed his sarcasm and said, just loud enough to be heard, "Jerk ass."

Artemis stiffened, rather dumbfounded by such an outright insult, and Butler arched a comic eyebrow. It seemed Section 8 would have a lot on their hands.

The three of them heard the room door open and almost simultaneously leapt into action. Artemis snatched a fine tooth comb and a letter he'd been in the middle of from a coffee table, Natashka clambered to her feet, urgency forcing her to regain control faster than usual and Butler had his revolver out and whirling before the five men who had entered the room realized there was someone in there other than Rookie.

Butler shot, purposely missing, just to disorient them. They ducked and he got close enough to kick one of them against a wall. The hit was hard and the man was unconscious before he'd slumped to the ground. Artemis took the opportunity and while his friend was fighting, he grabbed Natashka's wrist and started pulling her through the jumping bodies.

"Not so fast!" a man cried, grabbing Natashka's other wrist just as the two were nearly at the door. She scowled at him, pulled away from Artemis and dug her heel into the toes of his loafers. He howled and she grinned, smugly. However, when she went to take her shoe out of his, she found it was stuck.

"Are you coming or not?" Artemis demanded, ducking as Butler took out another man. However, they were regrouping and two of them were coming up on the bodyguard together.

"I can't! I'm stuck!" she cried, jerking her foot left and right. All the while, the loafer man was shrieking in obvious pain.

"Can't we leave the shoe behind?" Artemis implored, feeling his patience running out. Butler had knocked the remaining two men out. He hurried towards them and said, "We leave now. I heard one of them calling our friends down at the hotel restaurant. They're coming up as we speak.

"The shoe?" Artemis turned to Natashka and for a moment, she could only glare at him furiously. Finally, she sighed and knelt down, taking off both of her Christian Louboutins. Even the loafer man looked relieved, at least the heel in his toe wasn't moving anymore.

"Listen carefully," she spoke to him, "You clean this leather at least once every two weeks, you hear me?"

The loafer man was in so much pain, it was all he could do to nod agreeably. Natashka smiled, feeling sudden whiplash as Artemis and Butler practically rocketed her out of the hotel room. They came out into the hallway when they heard a distinctive _ding! _which told them that the elevator had just arrived. Looking hassled, the six men from the hotel restaurant ran out.

"The stairs!" Butler hissed and the three disappeared down the Exit doors before they were noticed.

* * *

_Let's Play_


	4. A Car Chase, A Garden, And Guns Galore

_Disclaimer: _Everything, excluding the plot and any self-made, belongs to Eoin Colfer. Not for profit.

_Author's Note: _A big thank you to all reviewers! Just a little note to Cipher, thank you about your tip off on the name Natashka and how it is a pet name for Natalia. Also, I just wanted to mention that although they have yet to make an appearance, I will somehow incorporate characters like Mulch Diggums, Doodah Day, Minerva Paradizo, and Trouble Kelp into this fanfic. Anyways, thanks again and please do take time to review.

* * *

Natashka was still woozy from the chloroform in her system and made frequent stumbles on the stairs, forcing Butler to support her for a few steps here and there. Artemis felt his breath grow heavy as his lack of exercise caught up with him. Perhaps he should take up jogging? He imagined himself in a bright pink jump suit similar to one his mother had with _Juicy _scrolling across his backside and gave an involuntary shudder. Perhaps not. 

They came upon the door that read 'Lobby' and Butler held it open as Artemis and Natashka piled out. The latter, still unsteady on her feet, missed a step and fell hard on her knee.

"Holy Mother-!" she gasped, clasping her knee, which was turning a garish blue.

"Can you manage?" Artemis demanded, offering a hand.

She didn't take it. Limping slightly, she stood and walked through the door. She'd become quite a spectacle with no shoes, messy hair, and a grand old bruise gracing her knee. If it wasn't for her demure dress and soft pearls, no one would've thought she was daughter to business tycoon, Rolf Wundt Federov.

Stepping out of the Astoria, they only had to wait twenty seconds before a valet pulled up with the Bentley.

"Master Fowl, I'm afraid your regular chauffeur did not realize you would be returning so soon and has gone off for a meal," the valet explained, "However, if you like, the Astoria would be pleased to present you with a complimentary chauffeur-"

"That will be unnecessary," Butler cut through, "I'll drive."

He took the valet's key and held the door open for Artemis and Natashka who promptly entered. As she sat beside him, Artemis noticed that where there had been a swelling bump only moments before, Natashka's knee was now smooth and unmarred. Noticing his gaze, she pulled her dress up to hide it. Artemis's eyes darted away, knowing it had been the fairy side of her that had caused her to heal so fast.

In the front seat, Butler drove swiftly, keeping his eyes on the rearview mirror. He knew their enemies were hardly going to let them get away scotch free. Artemis's laptop was pinging with the sound of web cam requests and he finally gave in to Foaly's insistent curiosity. He had barely clicked 'accept' when Foaly's voice broke over, "Fowl! Where the hell are you? Where the hell is the girl?"

Artemis glanced at Natashka and knew she was listening, although she pretended to be staring out the window. He replied in Gnommish so she wouldn't understand, "She's here, in the car, with me."

"With you? I can't exactly say I'm relieved," Foaly spoke now too in the Fairy tongue, "Listen I'm tracking you from your laptop. I need you to get to a certain park in St.Petersburg. From there, Section 8 officers will direct you to a fairy shuttle port. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Artemis replied, dourly, "Except for that fact that St.Petersburg has over two hundred parks so unless you can zone us in on one, I think the Section 8 officers will be waiting for us for a while."

Foaly frowned, "I had the name right here. What's this? Ugh."

Artemis saw the centaur pick up a slimy sandwich with a fairy communicator stuck to it.

"This is Diggums's work!" Foaly exclaimed, indignantly, "Next time I see that twittering dwarf, I'll show _him _a few places to stick his sandwiches."

Artemis flinched at the visual image, "Not that I don't like hearing about your interesting punishment techniques, Foaly, but I really need the name of that park. I'm a genius, not a psychic after all."

"Ha ha, Mud Boy," Foaly scoffed, "Listen, I'll click up the name for you in just a second. All I remember is that it was named after some royal and it has this illuminated fountain that your supposed to meet Section 8 at..."

"The Alexander Garden," Natashka murmured, "Named after Tsar Alexander II."

Foaly's froze and Artemis looked at her sharply. Even Butler peeled his eyes away from the rearview mirror. The girl had spoken in perfect Gnommish. Shifting his laptop away from her view, he demanded, "How did you-?"

He stopped mid-thought. How could she not? She was half fairy after all.

"I have a gift for languages," she answered, but too quickly as if she felt uncomfortable with it too.

Artems glanced back at the centaur, "Foaly, tell your officers we'll meet them in approximately-"

"Eighteen minutes," Butler piped up from the front seat.

"Fifteen," Natashka interrupted, "If you take a left now."

Butler took her advice and Artemis shut his laptop once more. He turned to Natashka, "You have very few questions for someone who's just been kidnapped, rescued, and is potentially being kidnapped again."

Natashka shrugged, "I'm just confused about what to ask first. How about, who are you?"

She held the stare he'd been giving her and Artemis couldn't help but feel slightly unnerved, "Artemis Fowl II and this is Domovoi Butler, my bodyguard."

She nodded, reaching out a hand for him to shake, "I'm Natalia Williamson Wundt Federov. I go by Natashka. However, I get the feeling you already know all this."

"You'd be right too," Artemis agreed, slowly, not sure how much Section 8 would want him to divulge, "Listen, Natashka, borrow my phone. Call up your father. Tell him you won't be able to make it to dinner tonight."

She held his small mobile in her hand and her thumb hovered over the dial pad, "Where are you taking me?"

"I can't exactly elaborate," Artemis continued, "You'll have to trust me on this one."

Her thumb didn't move.

"You _do_ trust me?" Artemis asked, raising an eyebrow, "I just saved your life after all."

"You and the Terminator over here don't exactly ooze off warmth, you know," Natashka retorted, "Just tell me one thing. Does any of this have anything to do whatsoever with my suddenly spiffy knee, my linguistical skills, or...or these?"

She tucked her hair behind her ears and Artemis saw them in all their pointed elfish glory. His eyes flashed for a second.

"Yes," he answered without any hesitation.

She sighed, "Then I trust you."

"Splendid," Artemis smiled, "Did you hear that Butler?"

"I most certainly did," the Eurasian said, twisting in the driver's seat and holding a hand over his shoulder, "Domovoi Butler as previously stated. As long as you're with Artemis, I'm your bodyguard too."

Natashka leaned forward to shake his hand and nearly fell into the front seat. A car had hit them from behind only a moment before. Artemis turned to look out the back window. Three black BMWs.

"Bad news," Artemis frowned, "It seems Natashka's old comrades from the ski hill have found us."

Butler sped up the car and Natashka fell back into her seat with a gulp. Artemis saw her grow nervous and said, more out of his newfound kindess than anything else, "I assure you, there's nothing to worry about. Butler will have us at the park anytime now and we'll easily lose them in the crowds."

Suddenly, there was a shattering of glass as a bullet whizzed in through one window, just an inch from Artemis and Natashka's noses, and out the other window. Before another bullet could be shot, Artemis grabbed Natashka and fell to the car floor.

"I thought there was nothing to worry about!" Natashka hissed, her face practically smushed against the bottom of the Bentley.

"This is why I hate rental cars," Butler muttered, now driving at a frightening speed, "No bullet proof windows."

He saw the other cars speed up with him and he began steering with one hand as the other pulled out his pistol. Checking that the road ahead was relatively clear, he started firing at the tires of the BMWs. He noticed a few cars skidding and pedestrians screaming, however, he still managed to take out one of the cars before barely avoiding getting shot himself.

He made two sharp rights and saw the park coming up straight ahead, "I suggest you two get ready to dash out."

Artemis wearily straightened till his head was level with the backs of the seats. He grabbed his laptop, the only really important thing he'd had lying around the Bentley. Natashka, looking rather ashen, rose too and looked at him as if regreting ever trusting him.

With a final magnificent spin that had a few people jumping away from the sidewalk, Butler had the car perfectly parallel parked. He leapt out and Artemis and Natashka were equally fast on the follow up. By the time the BMWs had driven up, the threesome had already been lost among the crowds of locals and tourists that walked the scenic pathways of the Alexander Garden.

Natashka led them purposefully to the infamous fountain, walking in an unabashedly graceful fashion for someone who wasn't wear any shoes on her glass-torn feet. Butler scanned the crowds anxiously. The simple fact that they could blend in so easy also meant that their foes could do the same. Artemis walked patiently beside Natashka, looking as if he hardly had a care in the world.

Upon reaching the fountain, Natashka whirled around to face them, "Where are your people?"

Artemis looked around him and smiled, "Give it a moment."

Only Master Fowl remained calm. Natashka and Butler were constantly looking around as if her kidnappers would suddenly pop up from behind this hydrangea bush or that park bench. A minute passed, as Artemis had known it would. Section 8 would've wanted to clarify that they were, in fact, the right people and that the location was stable. Finally, he felt a voice in his ear, "Artemis Fowl?"

He didn't move, "The same."

"Proof?" the voice demanded.

Artemis sighed and made as if his eye was itching. Reaching up, he took out his ice blue contact. He turned to his right and gave a twitchy wink, revealing only the hazel eye.

"What the hell is he doing?" Natashka wrinkled her nose, "And who's he talking to?"

Butler placed a tragic hand on her shoulder, "In about a week, you'll have wished you were never curious in the first place."

"Proof enough," the voice said, "Is that our girl?"

Artemis inclined his head towards Natashka and nodded. There was a pause in which he suspected all the invisible Section 8 officers were sizing up this halfling that was the key to the future of their organization. The Russian was lucky she couldn't see them or else she would've had trouble dealing with all the stares.

"Very well, then. Follow my lead," the voice ordered and Artemis felt a hand on his elbow and another on his back leading him where to go. The similar sensation happened to Butler and Natashka and the three of them fell into a line.

"Oh god," Natashka clamped her eyes shut minutely, "Don't tell me these _things _are your friends?"

"Friends is stretching it a bit," another voice said from behind them.

Artemis grinned and Natashka stiffened. After a more few minutes of awkward aided walking, they were led to a part of the park with fewer visitors. It didn't take long for anyone to realize why. The public outdoor bathrooms habited this corner of the park that met a nice man made forest. The ordor coming off the bathrooms would've given Mulch's backside a run for its money. Artemis coughed and forced himself not to pinch his nose with his fingers.

"Okay, the following procedure is fairly simple," a voice began, "We have a shuttle stored away in this far corner where the bathrooms meet the forest. There is a hologram and a shield blocking the shuttle-"

"Do you really need a shield?" Natashka implored, holding a palm over her nose.

Artemis heard a few invisible snickers and finally, the voice went on, disapproval evident, "_Anyways_, as I was saying. We have a shield. We've recently let down the shield so that the three of you may pass through."

"The three of us?" Butler cut through, half of his mind wanting desperately to leave now and have anything to do with this latest fairy adventure. The other half knew that he couldn't disappoint Holly, Foaly, or any of their other fairy friends if they did happen to need him and he especially couldn't leave Natashka alone in a world she wouldn't even understand.

"Commander Vinyaya explicitly said the three of you," the voice replied, sternly, annoyed at being interrupted twice, "Now, that the shield is down, all you need to do is walk through the foremost edge of the bathroom's eastern wall where the shuttle door is located. This shuttle will take to straight to Section 8 headquarters in Haven."

Natashka snorted, "Walk through a wall into some kind of magical world? What is this, Harry Potter or something?"

"Harry Potter with computers and guns," Butler corrected, "A lot of guns."

* * *

_Let's Play_


	5. The Mongocharger

_Disclaimer: _Everything, excluding the plot and any self-made, belongs to Eoin Colfer. Not for profit.

_Author's Note: _Thanks again to all the reviewers for this story. I hope you continue doing it because you're what drives me to write this! Anyways, here is another chapter where some of our favourite fairy characters finally shine a little brighter than they have previously. Lastly, thanks again and please review!

* * *

After much convincing from Artemis, Butler, and the Section 8 officers; Natashka was persuaded into crossing through the holographic wall. Artemis followed her retreating back and, with a light buzzing sound, found himself on the first of five steps leading into a fairy shuttle. He walked to the top and noticed Doodah Day, speed maniac extraordinaire, reclining in the cushioned driver's seat. 

"Jesus Christ," Natashka breathed, taking in the sight of him in all his pixie glory.

"Actually," he grinned, "It's Doodah Day. Company chauffeur at your service."

"Natashka," she replied as he leaned over and she bent double to shake his hand. When they separated, Artemis watched, amused, as she stared at her spread-eagled hand in awe as if hardly believing what had just happened.

"And Artemis Fowl, of course," Doodah smirked, "I tell you, not a year goes by until you're involved in fairy business again. Why is that?"

"Animal magnetism?" Artemis asked, theorectically and stepping further into the shuttle. The first thing he did was trip over his own feet.

"You _have _been on one of these things before, haven't you?" Natashka demanded, holding out her hand.

"Yes," he snapped and there was a certain defensive edge to his tone. He was about to take her hand, but then remembering her rejection of his help earlier, he chose to lift himself up by the wall.

Butler's entrance into the shuttle was announced by the entire vehicle shaking slightly at his weight. Through his dark shades, his eyes pierced Doodah for a second before he eased into the nearest seat and skillfully put on his seat belt. Natashka shot Artemis a look that could only say, '_At least someone look's like they know what they're doing._'

She went to sit beside the bodyguard and Artemis reluctuantly took the open space on her other side. The fairies arrived, one by one, removing their shields. There were seven of them and the last came in saying, "I've taken down the shield and the hologram's set to die out in two minutes. It's go time."

Artemis found it positively fascinating to study Natashka's face as she watched them apprehensively. Most of them were elves, however, there was a pixie or two in the mix. Her eyes fixated on their ears and he saw her reach out to gingerly touch her own. Furrowing her eyebrows, she stared down at her hands. After a moment, she asked, "Artemis, do you mind if I borrow your mobile again? I just wanted to make that call to my father."

He handed her the phone and she took a deep breath as she dialed and put it to her ear. Artemis looked away and pretended not to overhear their conversation. It took only one ring before Rolf Wundt Federov answered.

"Hello, Papa? Yes, it's Natashka...I'm fine, how about you? No..yes, I'm fine. Oh, you heard about the bombing in the library? No, I wasn't hurt. Really, Papa, don't sue. I told you I'm fine, didn't I? Yes! Uh huh, well I was just calling you about dinner. It turns out I can't make it. Why? Erm...I'm...taking a short trip with a friend," she said, glancing at Artemis, "Where am I going? Oh yes, uh...-looking at Artemis again-...Ireland. Yeah, Ireland, you always said it was beautiful there. I know it's sudden. I know this isn't like me to act so irrationally. School? Oh yeah, can you call in for me? I promise I'll make it up. I'm a smart girl, you know that Papa. Okay, okay so this sudden trip to Ireland wasn't exactly what you'd call smart. Yes, well, it's a friend from ballet if you must know. Boy or girl?"

Natashka paused and Artemis resisted the urge to smirk.

"A girl," she decided and the smug look on his face faded faster than a black shirt in the laundry, "Huh? You want to talk to her? She's sleeping, Papa, it was a long flight. We're in Barcelona now waiting for a connection. No, I will not wake her up just so that you can talk to her. It's ridiculous. What ever happened to trusting me?"

Five minutes later she was handing the phone off to Artemis as he tried to make his voice as high as possible, "H-hello? Mr. Federov? Yes, I'm a friend of Natashka's from ballet. Why the hell am I taking your daughter to Ire-? Um, well, I'm Irish as you can obviously tell. Actually, I _can _speak Russian if you'd prefer."

He bit his tongue immediately. Why did he have to go and say that? He wasn't sure if you could keep my his girly facade and speak Russian at the same time. The amused looks he was getting from Natashka, Butler, and the other fairies weren't helping either.

Bravely, he tried it anyways. After all, was there anything Artemis Fowl couldn't do if he set his mind to it?

"My name? Adèle Fowl," he responded quickly in Russian, picking up his younger sister's name. _(Author's Note: I realize Eoin Colfer has stated that the twins are both boys and will most likely be named Jonathan and Finian. However, I hope you'll roll with me on this one.)_

"Fowl? Adèle Fowl, you said?" Rolf's voice resounded with recognition, "Surely not Artemis Fowl's daughter?"

Artemis's brain panicked. If Federov was a close associate of his father's, he'd realize that Adèle Fowl was barely scraping four years old. Hardly likely that she'd be jetting across Europe with his own daughter.

"Yes," Artemis said, steadily, deciding to risk it anyways.

"Ah, well tell your father that I heard about his twins and congratulations. It's strange really. I thought his eldest was a boy," Rolf spoke, thoughtfully, "I guess I was wrong. Anyways, it was nice talking to you Adèle. Can you pass the phone back to Natashka?"

Extremely relieved, Artemis turned it over to Natashka, who said, "Uh huh. I know. Oh my god, really? Thanks, Papa, I love you so much! Yes, I'm staying at Fowl manor. Yes, I'll mention I'm your daughter to Mr. Fowl. -there was a pause where Natashka smiled and mouthed, '_He likes you_' to Artemis, who found this bit of information strangely elating-Okay, I'll call you later with details on when I'm getting back."

Snapping the cell shut, she smiled in bewilderment, "I can't believe he's letting me do this!"

"Correction," Artemis clarified, "He's letting you fly to Ireland with Adèle Fowl, not to Haven with _Artemis_ Fowl."

"Adèle, Artemis. To_may_toes, to_mah_toes," she shrugged, fixing her seat belt.

Butler shot his charge a look, but he was silent and only smiled. Boy, did this girl have a lot to learn about him.

"Doodah, the airways have cleared up and we've finished prepping for take off. Get those engines roarin'," a tall Section 8 officer with a very manly face called up to Doodah from the back of the shuttle.

"The magic words," Doodah beamed, cracking his fingers eagerly before setting them on the steering. The shuttle came alive and within seconds it was shooting through the air at an unnaturally fast speed.

Natashka screamed, half out of delight and half out of insane fear.

"Should I stick in the ole Mongocharger for some real speed? Then this baby'll be flying," he called over his shoulder.

"No!" a unanimous shout of ten voices yelped back.

"Aw, you guys are no fun," he pouted, making a sudden right turn. About four people cried out and Doodah snickered.

* * *

As the shuttle swooped into the port, Holly thought she could distinguish a few howls as Doodah Day's eccentric driving took its toll. Smiling to herself, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, feeling her level of excitement rise. Holly and two other Section 8 officers had been assigned to come to the shuttle port that fell in from St.Petersburg to help the others shuffle the humans over to Section 8 headquarters. 

Truthfully, Holly didn't know who she was more excited to see. Artemis and Butler or Natashka. In this instant, she'd decided that her old friends would come second tier to the prodigal head of Section 8, half-human half-fairy.

Holly stepped forward as the shuttle came to an abrupt pause right beside her. The Section 8 officers roused themselves, checking to see that the port was empty before nearing the shuttle with curious expressions. There was a soft hiss and then the shuttle door opened and its stairs teetered out neatly.

"Here we go again," Holly whispered to herself. Once again, just when she'd thought her life was an onslaught of routine and boredom, Artemis Fowl brought adventure. He was the first one out of the shuttle too and even though his face was sickly pale from the whirlwind ride, he managed to smirk. You had to hand it to the Mud Boy, he did everything with style, as annoying as it was.

"Holly," Artemis nodded and they shared a brief hug.

Butler came next, lifting his sunglasses off his eyes to get a good look at her, "How are you, old friend?"

Her answer was muffled as he enveloped her in a hug of his own. When they pulled away, Holly caught her first glance at Natashka. She was even paler than Artemis if that was possible and there were two fairies holding on to her. She shakily descended the stairs with their help and behind her, Holly noticed Captain Rayne Bokharii scolding Doodah Day, "What did I tell you, pixie? I told you _don't _ignite the engine with that Mongocharger of yours and what do you go and do? You ignite the engine with that Mongocharger of yours!"

"That idiot nearly flipped all our stomachs over with his driving," another officer muttered, darkly, "Worse yet, the girl started vomitting coming down the port. The entire shuttle's a mess."

Holly and the other officers grimaced at the visual that came to mind. Captain Short decided she'd better catch the license number of that shuttle so she could avoid it in the future. After all, some stains never came off.

Natashka stood beside Butler, practically overshadowed by his presence. Holly got the sense that she was purposely hiding. Suddenly feeling immensely compassionate, she went to the girl and held out her hand, "Holly Short, Section 8 Captain. It's Natashka, right?"

The Russian girl nodded, timidly, "Yeah. You're a captain for what did you say?"

The Section 8 officers shared glances, ruefully. Holly didn't flinch, "Section 8. If you'll come with us, we'll explain everything."

* * *

Holly had never met anyone quite like Natashka. The only other humans she'd met such as Artemis, Butler, or Minerva Paradizo had seemed to know about Fairy kind just as expertly as she did. But Natashka was like a baby in Haven. Everything seemed to astound her and even the most basic everyday things had her eyes widening. From out of the Section 8 vehicle, now driven by Rayne Bokharii as Doodah sat scowling in a corner, she stared intently outside the whole time. Only ocassionally, she would turn to Holly, Artemis, or another one of the fairies and ask a question about something. 

Another thing that surprised Holly was how indulgent Artemis was with her. With most people, he mocked their inferior level of intelligence, but with Natashka he explained everything like a father would to his child.

'_He's made her his pet,_' Holly realized, '_And I'm not quite sure if that's a good thing._'

Natashka smiled, appreciatively, as their vehicle was shot into Section 8 Headquarters and Artemis commented, "Impressive. I see Foaly's been enjoying himself."

"Is this the fairy CIA or something?" Natashka asked, stepping into the Headquarters garage, acting oblivious to all the stares she was getting.

"You could say that," Butler offered, his shoulders relaxing now that they were in a relatively safe place.

"Cool. Who's in charge of this set-up anyways?" Natashka demanded, soaking in her busy surroundings. There were fairies running all over the place, appearing as if there was something earth-shatteringly important for each of them to do. They would only pause to stare at Natashka, Artemis, and Butler before taking off again.

"Everything will be answered soon enough," Holly said smoothly, hurrying Natashka down a hallway.

Shortly, they came upon a large metallic door. Holly knocked on the door three times and Commander Vinyaya was at it before any of them could speak. She opened it harshly and her eyes darted about until they landed on Natashka. Immediately, she faced her officers, "All of you are dismissed for your other assignments except for Captain Short and Captain Bokharii. Natashka, please come in. You and your bodyguard too, Fowl."

The five of them piled in and Vinyaya went to close the door but it was stuck. Doodah Day had put his foot in the way.

"You said nothing about a driver," he grinned.

"Scat Doodah," Vinyaya said in her warning voice, "I don't have time for this."

"Aw, come on, Commander. The girl and I are practically best friends now," Doodah gave Natashka a wink.

"Really? I heard you made her throw up in the shuttle on the way down to Haven," Vinyaya remarked, coldly.

"Friendship stems from mutual difficulty?" he tried.

"This is top secret...," Vinyaya trailed off and Doodah squeezed in, "Oh, alright. Just keep this quiet."

She'd just closed the door when it flew open again.

"That's it! Remind me to lock it next time," Vinyaya sighed.

Foaly trampled in, Mulch at his feet.

"I heard Natashka had come in and came as soon as-Oh," Foaly stopped as he caught sight of her, "Hello."

She gave him a weak wave, "Hi."

"Wow, you're really...human," Foaly tilted his head to one side.

"No duh, horse-boy," Mulch rolled his eyes, "Hey, sweetheart. I'm Mulch Diggums. I'm what you'd call a dwarf."

She smiled and held out her hand to shake. He grinned and held up his mud-covered palm, "I'm sure you'd rather not."

"Enough of this. The both of you, leave. Now!" Vinyaya ordered, pointing sternly towards the door.

"I don't see you asking Doodah Day to leave," Foaly sniffed, "And he's only a driver whilst I am Technical Director."

Vinyaya glared at from Foaly to Doodah as if to her next words were going to be, '_One more peep out of either of you and everyone's fired_'. Instead, she breathed in and out deeply and said, her voice calm as still water, "Very well. Shut the door, will you Diggums?"

"Gladly," he said and let rip such a big blow of gas that the door slammed shut.

For a second everyone thought Vinyaya was going to explode. She only flinched ever so slightly and turned to Natashka saying, "Hmm. Okay, then. Well, this was not exactly how I imagined starting this conversation with you. However, when life gives you lemons...Anyways, let me begin by telling you that I what I'm going to say may sound like a lot to take in at once, but, if you brace yourself, I think you can keep from hyperventilating from the shock."

* * *

_Let's Play_


	6. Section 8 HQ

_Disclaimer: _Everything, excluding the plot and any self-made, belongs to Eoin Colfer. Not for profit.

_Author's Note: _As per usual, thanks to all the cool reviewers, hope you do so again! Anyways, I wasn't quite sure about my last chapter, and I'm not too quite sure about this one. It took me a while because I kept thinking I could've done better, you know? Whatever, what's up is up. I actually really like parts of it. Most of all, I hope you enjoy and review! Thanks.

* * *

"I'm a fairy," Natashka stated, quite calmly, then paused, "Am I not?"

Vinyaya stopped before she'd even begun her speel. Gathering her wits about her, she said, slowly, "Well, you're half-fairy. Half-elf, if you really want to get into it."

Natashka's entire face read relieved, "I _knew _it. I knew I wasn't just weird. The things I can do sometimes, that's the elf acting up, right?"

"Uh, what can you do exactly?" Rayne Bokharii demanded, both fascinated and disgusted by outer species breeding.

The Russian girl bit her lip, "Other than having freaky ears, there's healing, I'm good at that. I never get sick or hurt and, when I do, I get better fast. Like really, really fast. Oh, and I'm killer when it comes to languages. -she started to speak Gnommish- See? I don't even know what I'm speaking right now, but I'm pretty good at it, aren't I? -she fell back into English- There's also this."

She took a pen out of the folds of her dress and placed it on the table. She concentrated on it with unblinking eyes and the rest of the group at the silver table leaned forward, eagerly. A minute passed, then two. Mulch opened his mouth to break what he thought was an uncomfortable silence but Foaly shushed him. The pen, it was _melting. _Within the next few seconds, the smell of burning plastic filled the air as what remained of the pen sizzled in a colourful pool on the table.

"She's learned deformation," Foaly breathed, suddenly eyeing Natashka like a particularly good science experiment, "Can you move this stuff around too? Like a telekinetic?"

Natashka frowned, "No, actually. Just...deform them, really. Sometimes I can even change something into something else. _That _I wouldn't like to try. Usually simply melting things takes it out of me."

"Transmutation, that's what it's called," Foaly went on, "Is there anything else?"

"Well, yes. I hardly ever do it because I feel like I'm going to go into a respiratory collapse right after," Natashka fumbled with her loose hair, looking nervous, "I mean, if I tell you, you won't make me do it, will you?"

"Of course not," Vinyaya assured her before Foaly could speak, "What is it?"

"It's just, if I really wanted to or really had to, I can sort of.._levitate_," Natashka explained, "But I've only done it once or twice and only because I was really, really desperate."

"How is that possible?" Holly shook her head, "Natashka doesn't have a mesmer or a shield like most of us yet she can do things most normal fairies can't."

"The Burdeh family has widely been known for being telekinetic. In fact, three of LEP's telekinetic division hail distantly from the same family. It seems that Natashka here is semi-telekenetic as far as that goes," Vinyaya had her eyebrows furrowed, "As for the levitation, I suppose a mix of magical DNA narrowing her bone marrow may have given her that ability. The traits are weakened in her because she is half-human."

"It also takes her a while to perform magic because she's part human too," Foaly tossed in, whipping his tail and hitting Mulch in the face.

"Who are the Burdeh family?" Natashka piped up, reminding everyone that she was, indeed, in the room and still completely unaware of her family history.

"The Burdeh family are your relatives, south of the earth's crust," Vinyaya began, her voice not unkind, "Your father, for starters, was William Burdeh, son of the late Nan Burdeh. The latter being your grandmother."

"William Burdeh?" Natashka seemed confused, "Then why was my last name Williamson back in Brooklyn?"

"Brooklyn?" Artemis echoed.

"Yeah, the orphanage. In Brooklyn. Where I grew up until Rolf adopted me?" Natashka looked around, slightly pleased and surprised that there was at least one thing most of these people didn't know about her.

"Listen," Vinyaya interrupted, "If you'll all stop asking questions, I'll get right down to it. We didn't know you came from an orphanage in Brooklyn until recently when we uncovered some of Nan's old diaries and Foaly clicked and hacked every single link on the internet. Now, as I was saying, your father was William Burdeh. He heralded from an extremely posh political family in Haven, sort of like the Vanderbilts you humans have. However, it seems, like many who are born into wealth and priviledge, William was a rebellious young man who took to cruising the surface, often without his mother's notice. We have been lead to believe that he fell in line with your mother, a one Dahlia Wakeridge, in Moscow. She was then visiting from New York city and he had her thinking he was a native of Russia. They, er..."

Vinyaya stopped to regroup and word herself as eloquently as possible, "Well, you see, they-"

"Had sex?" Natashka arched an eyebrow, ending the Commander's uncomfortable ramble.

"I was going to go for 'made love' or 'spent the night together'," Vinyaya nodded and rolled back her shoulders.

"Com_man_der, I never!" Mulch grinned.

Vinyaya ignored him, "_Anyways, _Dahlia and William, both thinking it had been a one night fling, separated amicably. Unfortunately, your mother arrived back to the United States to find she was pregnant. By the time she thought to contact him, he was back in Haven. She still kept sending letters to a pub he frequented while in Moscow, the place where she met him, and the owner kept these faithfully lest William return, but it was to no avail. Nine months later, she was in labour and your father was none the wiser."

There was a pause, then Natashka, not even sure if she wanted to know, inquired, "If both my parents were alive, how did I end up in the orphanage?"

The Commander could hardly bear to tell her that her father had never known about her and her mother had wanted to get rid of her, "Well, your mother, like your father, hailed from an extremely strict aristocratic type family. She felt pressured to hide her pregnancy from them, knowing they'd disapprove. When she went into labour, she was completely alone, you have to understand this, and she took a taxi from one part of town to another. She arrived at the orphanage in Brooklyn, gave birth to you, and died almost immediately afterwards. She was delirious when you were born and when the patrons asked for a name for you, she could only say, 'William's son.' You were William's son, that's what she was implying. The nuns took it as a last name, Williamson. Your mother passed away before they could get a first name. I sent two of my officers out the other day, to interview a certain nun that seemed to know you well, Sister Mary? Anyway, she said she remembered your mother mentioning your father was a man from Moscow so she named you after Nataliya Makarova, a famous Russian ballerina and Tony award winner from the seventies and the eighties."

"Then what happened to my father?" Natashka implored, eating up all the information she was getting about her past, "How did you guys find out about me?"

"Your father died when you were around five years old. He was killed by a rogue troll. They couldn't even assess it was him for days, that's how torn up the body was," Vinyaya said, sadly, "After that, your grandmother, Nan Burdeh was extremely torn up. She decided to visit William's old hauntings, anything for closure. By chance, she happened upon the pub where Dahlia had sent all the letters to your father. She asked about William and the pub owner brought up all the yellowing post. Mrs. Burdeh, realizing your existence, searched nearly a year before she tracked you down. She had been secretly keeping an eye on you till her death not too long ago. She loved you, dearly, girl, I promise you that."

"Loved me?" Natashka looked bewildered, "She never came to see me."

"She couldn't, you were already immersed in the human world. You were probably happy the way you were, that's how she saw things," Vinyaya defended her late companion, "When she left for the afterlife, do not think she forgot about you. She had another son, Waldorf, who she left her various manors. You, however, she left all her estate. This includes what you see around you right now. Section 8."

"Say _what?_" Natashka blanked, then gestured around her, "This-_this _is mine?"

Vinyaya nodded, "Don't forget her wealth. Nan Burdeh was a billionaire and, now, so are you."

"Billionaire?" she repeated, shellshocked.

Rolf was not a poor man. In fact, he was a certified millionaire who had shown Natashka all the luxury his money could buy. But, a billionaire? He certainly wasn't that.

"That's richer even than me," Artemis murmured, finding offense in his fact. _No one_ had ever been richer than him.

"Billionaire," Vinyaya grinned, glad to have reached the happier part of this story, "And that is precisely why you sit before us today. You see, Section 8 is an extremely private operation which used to be bent on controlling demon activity. Now, we work on the most intimate criminal law enforcement in the fairy world. The only problem is, Nan Burdeh used to be our benefactor and had been for the last five hundred years of her life. When she died, she left us some money, but it has been dwindled away over the years. Section 8 needs replenishing. We need the generous Burdeh donations again and you hold the key to the bank account."

"I do?" Natashka asked.

"Burdeh's left the account under you and it will most likely only open at the hint of her son, William's DNA, am I right, Commander?" Artemis implored, checking his nails for any sign of dirt and appearing extremely haughty and bored at the same time.

"Yes," Vinyaya snapped, sharply, not too pleased that the Mud Boy always picked up on things so fast.

"Oh," Natashka was nodding slowly, "So you want my inheritance to fund your organization here."

"That sounds about right," Holly said and Vinyaya seconded her.

"I could use a few new toys," Foaly was rubbing his chin, thinking about all the things this new budget would buy him.

"I don't know...," Natashka sighed, biting the inside of her cheek.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Foaly demanded, his eyebrows flyaways into his hair line.

Mulch and Doodah laughed, appreciatively, at her hesitance. It seemed she wasn't going to be so quick to comply.

"Well, I don't have a clue what you guys do really. I don't know anything about fairies when it comes right down to it," Natashka shrugged, "Why should I give you money when I could head over to the Red Cross and do the same. I happen to know they do good things."

"We do _cool _things," Foaly cut across, "You'd think that was enough."

Natashka shook her head, "I'm not convinced."

"Listen girly, you're lucky we're being so civil," Rayne Bokharii, who had been silent this whole time, spoke up, "I'd rather we mesmered you right away and took the money without all this hassle. In fact-she stood, menacingly-that's a plan I'm prepared to follow right now."

Butler, who had also been quiet this whole time, stood also and his hand was clenched into a fist. He was feeling particularly defensive. After all, he'd just held the girl's hair back from her face as she'd vomited. That kind of thing can make a man loyal.

"Calm down, all of you, please," Vinyaya raised her hands and they all sat, "Natashka, I can understand your reluctuance. However, you must remember that you are our only hope here. We cannot turn to someone else for fear that our entire organization becomes public. Our element of surprise is half our advantage."

The girl simply clamped her eyes shut, "God, this is too much to think about all at once. Do you mind if I just...lie down?"

Vinyaya, Holly, Foaly, and Rayne Bokharii exchanged looks. Then the Commander said, "Of course you can. I'll have someone take you down right now. Doodah, would you mind escorting her to our sleep shelters on the fourth floor?"

"Pretty thing like that? It'd be my pleasure," Doodah jumped off his seat and began leading Natashka down the hall by pulling the bottom of her dress. As the two receded down the hall, everyone left in the room heard him murmuring, "Those pointy ears really suit you. If I were human, I'd call up my plastic surgeon in a heart beat..."

"And Mulch?" Vinyaya stared at him, fixedly.

"Wha-? Oh, fine," Mulch rolled his eyes, "I'll play third wheel to their car. Wouldn't wanna leave the girl alone with Doodah anyways, he has the worst stories about his fishing trips."

Rayne Bokharii went to the door and shut it as the dwarf left, then pointed towards Artemis with her eyes. Vinyaya, who seemed lost in thoughts about what to do with the Burdeh heir, shook her head as if it was water-logged and faced the Fowl boy, "Now, Artemis, I'm sure someone of your intelligence already knows why we've brought you down to Haven along with Natashka."

"I'd like to say that all of you missed me, but I'm not about to flatter myself," Artemis leaned back in his seat, "You want to know what I know about the people after your girl. You want profiles. You want me to give a detailed recount of how they work. Then, you want to send me up in a one-way shuttle back to St.Petersburg."

"Very good, Mud Boy," Foaly smiled, "Then this should all be smooth rolling?"

"Precisely, Foaly," Artemis said, "For once, I am not interested in getting involved. It is my wish and Butler's too that we give our accounts of what happened and return to St.Petersburg. In fact-he checked his watch-I have a flight to Nice in a few hours."

"Then let's get right to it," Vinyaya clasped her hands together, "What do you have for us, Fowl?"

Butler reached into the folds of his suit and folded out two items, sealed carefully in Ziploc baggies. He laid them down on the table top and the fairies came closer to have a good look. One contained a letter and the other a comb, both of them having been snatched from the Astoria Hotel previously by Artemis.

Foaly took up the one with the comb, glancing white hairs on it which he would be sure to use for DNA testing. Artemis spoke, "The men who so relentlessly hunted us appear to be a group of humans and fairies alike. I have deduced that some of Haven's rogue fairies are working with a human organization with their eyes on Natashka's fortune or even Section 8. Most of the men we came across were merely henchmen. We believe the bosses are still working behind the veil. However, we have pictures of them right here."

Artemis peeled off his photographic contact lense and set it gently into its case. He slid it across the table so it sat under Foaly's nose. "The most distinctive of these men was a pixie, short cropped hair. White."

Holly's eyes widened, "That's the guy I saw outside the bank on the day of the heist!"

"Then it's the same people," Vinyaya frowned, "At least we know that."

"Listen," Artemis stood which prompted Butler to do the same, "I'm glad to have been of help, but I must go. I haven't even packed for France yet and you know, with the traffic and what they say about being at the airport early..."

"You're leaving?" Holly looked disapproving. Where was the nosy genius that she loved?

"I'll come visit another time, perhaps," he winked at her, before heading for the door, "Call me if you have any further questions and give Natashka our goodbyes."

Just then, a shrill ringing sound resounded throughout the room and everyone gazed about them, stupefied. The door burst open, nearly hitting Artemis in the nose, and a harried officer ran in, gasping, "Commander, there's been a break in!"

"No, no," Vinyaya shook her head and went to a dark monitor and at her touch it lit up, "The girl..."

"She's gone," the officer explained, "We checked on her first thing when the alarms went off. Whoever wanted her, got her and the dwarf and the pixie too."

"D'Arvit!" Vinyaya swore, uncharacteristically pounding a fist on the table, "How did those people even get in here?"

Artemis glanced at his bodyguard, a look of near pleading in his eyes. Butler stood stoic before he sighed and pulled out Artemis's chair for him all over again. Master Fowl sat down, smirking. Holly thanked her lucky stars, he was back and, with him, a sense of devious fun. For Artemis, this had suddenly become a struggle of the wits; of who was smarter, as it always was. Whoever these guys were, he wasn't just going to let them win that easily by idling flying off to Nice.

_Game. Set. Match._

* * *

_Let's Play_


End file.
